


Untitled Fic For Mac Lynn

by golden_bastet



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-15
Updated: 2006-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_bastet/pseuds/golden_bastet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Origin Story...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Fic For Mac Lynn

**Author's Note:**

> Originally meant to be posted at Scarlet Seduction. Since I will likely never get to continue it, I'll just post as is.
> 
> It was written for Operation mac_lynn (when mac_lynn was going through some bumpy times). Apparently the second fic I wrote, LOL, though it was betaed. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a beautiful spring day, the day that the box arrived.  
  
The threat of snow had finally passed; the trees had dropped their flowers and were now covered with small leaves. Birds were starting to nest, and here and there in the woods behind the house were traces of animals newly out of winter burrows to reclaim the lands. It wasn't full spring, but the days had gotten warmer, warm enough for little bodies to run without heavy coats and boots.  
  
Which was exactly what they'd done the entire morning. Aya-chan, being five, had run through the trees like a force of nature, playing tag, chasing and being chased, with the pure delight in living that childhood brings. As a result she was now taking a nap, refueling all the energy just to burn it off again later. Ran, being a so-much-more-mature seven, had faithfully kept up with Aya-chan (and he really **had** let her win at tag, although he'd never tell her that), enjoying the time with his sister. Right now, though, he wasn't really tired. He lay on his bed, turning in the midafternoon quiet, but he couldn't actually fall asleep. It felt like something was nagging at the edge of his thoughts, like he'd forgotten to do something.  
  
Giving up, he crept out of bed and into his slippers, figuring he'd go downstairs and find - a glass of milk? His mother? The governess? - well, he wasn't sure what, but he'd know it when he saw it. It was when he got to the top of the main staircase and saw the front door open that something told him to stop - **watch** \- so he sat on the top step, hidden behind the bars of the railing, a slight frown on his face.  
  
His mother stood before the open front door. She handed a slip of paper to a courier standing nearby, then gestured towards his father's office, saying something to the butler holding a long, flat box. Although Ran couldn't hear anything, they both reacted to her movements: servant and package moved out of his vision, the messenger disappeared through the front door, and his mother moved away towards another part of the house. Despite the quiet, Ran felt something was wrong, a dark cloud in the distance threatening his and Aya-chan's game of chase. Frowning some more, he slowly stood and went back to his bedroom.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
By dinnertime Aya-chan was on her second wind, describing the nest they'd found and put back in the tree, the flower she'd smelled (but did **not** pick), and the deer tracks they'd come across. She also reported, with a serious little shake of the head, that "Ran-ichi might need more practice at playing tag." As the girl continued on, Ran saw his father give him a little smile and a wink, showing he knew what the boy had actually done but would never spill the secret. The boy smiled back at him. That was what Ran loved about his parents: they **knew** , they **understood** , and they accepted.  
  
During a break in the Aya-chan chatter, Kaito Fujimiya turned to the boy. "So, Ran, what about you? What did you get up to today?"  
  
"We played outside, like Aya-chan said." Violet eyes turned to the man, serious, and the tone shifted. "Father, what was in that box that came today? I saw it when the delivery man came to the door."  
  
"Ran," his mother admonished. "You were watching? You were supposed to be sleeping."  
  
"I know, but I couldn't. I was gonna come downstairs for a glass of milk. What was in the box?"  
  
"It's okay, Sumiko." They exchanged an uneasy glance, then he turned back to the boy. "I'm not sure, Ran - it's a sword, and it was left with me for safekeeping, but I don't know very much beyond that."  
  
"Why was it left with you?"  
  
"I don't know that either, son. A business acquaintance asked me to watch it in exchange for a favor I had to ask of him. Since I... know so little about it, it's best to leave it be until the owner asks for it back."  
  
"Yes, father, but – "  
  
"Ran," his mother said, "eat your dinner before it gets cold. You can ask more later." But later became a story and bedtime, and this time Ran was sleepy, so there were no more questions.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Years passed and the children grew, as children do, but Ran never really found out more about the sword in the box. His parents avoided the subject, as though it shouldn’t exist. It sat on the sideboard in his father's office, the cedar chest blending in with the furnishings, but Ran never thought it truly fit. Whenever he went into the office - to greet his father, to call him to dinner, just to see what he was doing - the boy would glance over to where the box sat, just... waiting. It always made him uneasy.  
  
Once, as he passed their bedroom, he heard a soft conversation between his parents which made him stop.  
  
"- something wrong with it. Can't you just return it?"  
  
"No," his father murmured. "Politically impossible right now. But you're right, there is something very wrong with it, and I refuse to touch the thing. There's no telling what Ta - Ran!" He spotted the boy in the hall, and both parents turned towards him, startled. "What's wrong? Why are you standing in the hallway? Do you need us for something?"  
  
The boy was taken aback by his father's tone. Underneath the regular warmth and patience was annoyance and - a little _fear_ , which he'd never heard there before. "Uh, no, I was just looking for Aya-chan."  
  
His mother moved to the door, then leaned over and kissed the boy on the head. "Ran, my precious firstborn," she whispered, "there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to protect you..." Then straightening up: "Well, go find her and take her outside to play while there's still some light left. We'll see you at dinner." She then stepped back and firmly closed the door.  
  
There was nothing to do but to find Aya-chan, and his parents were fine by dinner. But Ran thought about the exchange for days afterwards.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
More seasons progressed. Ran grew into a studious, serious young man, and Aya-chan was fast becoming a graceful young lady. They did well in school, made friends, acted like normal teenagers - although Ran was a bit quiet, always deferring to his vivacious younger sister.   
  
His parents were proudest of him the day that the acceptance letter from Tokyo University came to the house. There was much happiness, and it seemed that endless possibilities stretched out before him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
About a month after the acceptance letter had arrived, Kaito Fujimiya was away on business, and Sumiko Fujimiya had taken Aya-chan shopping. Ran was alone in the house except for the staff. Bored, he had gone into his father's office to check the appointment calendar on the desk to see when the man would return.  
  
And looked over to see the box.  
  
They had been studying military history in school, with several classes devoted to the development of arms. Ran had always found swords fascinating - especially the idea that the sword was the soul of the samurai - and had been to the museum several times to study their collections. His father, ever the pacifist, had never shown more than polite interest in Ran's descriptions, and... clearly the box held an ancient sword, maybe even a shinshinto or a koto, and his father had no idea just what treasure he'd been entrusted with.  
  
 _The sword had been waiting for so long, angry in the dark, but now sensed the possibility of... change._  
  
It wouldn't hurt to take a look, one look... It was just a sword, nothing sinister. He wasn't a kid, and there was nothing to be afraid of. And when would he ever get a chance to actually hold what had to be an incredibly rare, precious sword? And what kind of "soul" would this sword be? Benevolent, in the style of Masamune, or violent, like Muramasa?  
  
 _Sat waiting, hoping..._  
  
He stepped before the box and gingerly touched the wooden case. Just one peek - and it wasn't entrusted to *him*, so it wouldn't break any vow to look at it. And why wasn't such a beautiful, rare weapon on a proper stand, anyway?  
  
He reached for the clasps.  
  
 _Waiting, hoping,... **encouraging**._  
  
Raised the cover.  
  
 _Just a little more..._  
  
Placed his hand on the hilt and began to lift the sword.  
  
 _Yes... contact again!_  
  
...and the visions came at him too furious to capture: an explosion; a hit and run; a sneering redheaded man; Aya-chan lying deathly still; a hospital; a flower shop; a blond kid in shorts; an older kid - an athlete - with a silly grin; a lanky blond in sunglasses smiling gently at him (and somehow the blond was _important_ ); more flowers; the Takatoris; a long dark building; another explosion...  
  
Him gracefully swinging a - katana?!? - through some silent ballet...   
  
So much blood... but whose?  
  
And through it all, emotions battered against him: anger / guilt / sadness / revenge / longing / hate / love / resignation...  
  
He dropped the sword back into the box, the lid falling shut, and ran from the room.  
  
Something had... _changed_. He should never have opened the box.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
In another country, far away, a young American sat up in bed, frowning. Something had... _changed_ , something had just shifted and snapped into place.  
  
Takatori's "delivery" to Fujimiya had finally been accepted - but by the wrong person. Events had been set into motion, but outcomes had altered and he couldn't see how.  
  
He'd have to call the others together as soon as possible. Whatever was going on, this development had just determined their next mission assignment.  
  
Eliminate the Fujimiya family.


End file.
